


Married to a Slytherin

by AEC7fb



Series: My Slytherin [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Care of Magical Creatures, Community: Dramione FanFiction Forum, F/F, F/M, Forced Marriage, Good Lucius Malfoy, M/M, Malfoy Manor (Harry Potter), Polyjuice Potion, Post-War, Slytherin, Top Draco Malfoy, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 21:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEC7fb/pseuds/AEC7fb
Summary: Intrigue, romance, drama - Hermione has just come back from France where she was training to be a healer. She is coming home to the only home she has known for the past 12 years...Malfoy Manor.  Hermione was adopted by the Malfoys following some muggle killings. Now back home Hermione has been asked to save her family.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini
Series: My Slytherin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217723
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	1. Coming Home

June 2001

It was like coming home for the first time. 

After 3 years of working on her healer mastery in France, Hermione Granger had finally returned to the one place she could call home now. Malfoy Manor. Lush gardens, large turrets, 8 floors of towering cold elegance. Slowly moving down the long driveway from the apparition point, she grazed her fingers along the shrubs and felt the cool air of Wiltshire ruffle her cloak and send her curls askew. She longed to walk the gardens with Narcissa and spend hours reading while she sat on her favorite green sofa. She wanted treacle tarts from her favorite elf, Mipsy. She craved a home - a place to belong. 

Everything was the same as years ago. It took all of her Gryffindor courage to push her way into the manor through the all too familiar foreboding manor doors. The smells of mahogany and roses permeated the air, smelling like home. Vast elegant peach roses lined the sitting rooms, and she knew immediately that Narcissa was sending her a warning. Having been trained from the age of 10 in pureblood customs, Hermione Granger knew what a peach rose signified and she knew she should run right back through those doors. 

Slowly sneaking up to her three-room suite in the east wing, Hermione was thankful she hadn’t been greeted by a house elf or any member of the family. She needed time. Time to gather herself and prepare for the barrage of cunning questions and carefully crafted stories that she knew her family would come to dinner with. She had almost made it just a few more stairs up to the third floor. 

“I had hoped France would have made you more shrewd, but I can see my wish was a futile one. Tell me, Hermione, did you forget I can feel when someone comes through my wards?” 

Hermione turned to the familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Manor and the only father figure she had had for the past 12 years of her life. 

“I had hoped to freshen up before greeting you all.”

“Sneaking away shows fear to the enemy. Why are you sneaking?”

“I have never been accused of sneaking. If anything, sneaking seems more like a Slytherin trait than a Gryffindor one.” 

His lips pulled up ever so slightly at her cheeky comment. Lucius had quickly gotten accustomed to her wit and comments, even goading her into a reaction for his amusement. 

“Come. Let me welcome you. You know Narcissa has been beside herself planning a welcome dinner for you.” He held his arms open to her. 

Hermione flung herself into his arms. She pressed against the immaculate dress robes Lucius insisted on wearing everyday and inhaled the smell of her childhood. Sandalwood, oranges, and something indefinable...something pristine that only came from years of pampering and prestige. 

“I am back. I brought our family honor by completing my mastery in half of the allotted time, just as I promised. I believe you owe me 10 galleons.” 

Lucius drew her from the stairs into his study. “I refuse to discuss anything on a staircase. Come with me to my study for a celebration drink and then we shall find Narcissa for mid-afternoon tea. She will be cross with both of us if she realizes you were not brought to her the instant you arrived.” 

Lucius was well over 6 feet tall with the most immaculate and blonde hair that streamed down his back in an almost regal way. His gray eyes always seemed to see into her, much like her own father’s had many years ago. He handed her two fingers of an amber liquid and ten galleons. He clinked glasses with her in a silent salute to her achievement. Praise in the Malfoy family came in the most subtle ways, something she had grown to appreciate over time. Lucius was patient and the true definition of cunning. She remembered seeing his cruelty, watching him sadistically cut down wizards twice his size in the name of protecting his family. Thankfully, this man thought of her as family, and there was a type of affection she knew he felt toward her even if the words were never spoken. 

“How will you fill your days now? Perhaps you are thinking more about what our Narcissa has proposed. Twenty-two is a fine age for us to find you a match.” 

“I begin at St. Mungo’s in one week. I will start in the Creature Maladies Ward.” She would not even acknowledge the mention of a contract.

“You are a brilliant young woman. Why would you want to spend your best years in that depressing hospital?” 

“You know I want to help people. I want to spend my life improving the well-being of others.”

“How will you have time to find a suitable match if you are - ”

She cut him off immediately with a raised hand. His eyes narrowed at the gesture and she had the mind to quickly look sheepish. “Please don’t start with the ‘wouldn’t you rather find a nice wizard and settle down’,” she said in a calm but stern tone. “I do not want to be married. Is it because I am a witch? You told me that if I wanted to pursue school and work, that you would not interfere. Are you going back on your word?” 

She could play just as dirty as her family. By questioning his word, she knew she had effectively stopped this line of inquiry from him. 

“Minx,” he muttered under his breath. “Spare me the patriarchy speech tonight, Hermione. You are an ambitious witch, something I have always respected and nurtured within you. While you have effectively cowed me, Narcissa will likely not be so easily deterred. I do have something I want to discuss with you. I would like you to consider coming to work for Malfoy Enterprises. We have a Potions and Charms Reversal Division that you could head up. I have a small research project related to lycanthropy that I would like the company to undertake.”

He knew her so well. To dangle not only a research project in front of her, but also something she had just spent the past 3 years studying for. Her mind began to race with possibilities. What were the best books related to the genetics of lycanthropy? What type of control testing would she begin with? No, she could not be swayed. She had already accepted her program and would be starting in just a few days. Still, Hermione was a curious person, even to her own detriment. She had to know everything. What could it hurt to learn more?

“Can you tell me more about this project?” 

“Very private project, my dear. I will just say that it has largely to do with “mate bonding.”

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. “You want Malfoy Enterprises to study Werewolf mate bonds?” 

“Precisely, clever girl. You know a bond is a powerful bit of magic that we could all use to learn more about. For instance, if one loses its mate, what happens to the remaining mate?”

Lucius always had a way of challenging her and his team to go above and beyond. His ruthless business acumen was one of the reasons why the government was able to subsidize a Malfoy Enterprises-made Wolfsbane alternative - Expelmoon. Allowing the wolf to stay under control for longer, Expelmoon is a 3-month shot that allows less fluctuation in behavior leading up to the full moon. With this potion, many werewolves have been able to live a more normal life and are able to have little interruption in their day-to-day lives. Werewolf employment skyrocketed after it was released to the general population. 

The original idea for Expelmoon was actually something Hermione theorized with Lucius after learning about slow hormonal release birth control. She theorized that if a werewolf was given aconite or a similar substance all month long versus just the week before and prior, that not only would the transformation be easier, but it would also level out agressions and allow more control long-term. Hermione’s research and theory became a reality when Lucius assembled a team to begin building potions and testing. Prior to release, Lucius and Draco negotiated a 2000-year trademark on the injectable potion and all of the corresponding research. With only one source of the product and raising populations of werewolves due to Greyback’s insatiable bloodlust, the government was forced to champion Lucius and work to subsidize the potion cost for the masses. 

Hermione had negotiated with Lucius for 10% of all profits from the potion going to her, with 8% funding local creature charities and the other 2% into her personal vault. Additionally, she had stipulated that the potion must be kept reasonably priced. In an interview with Witch Weekly, Hermione was vaulted again as the “brightest witch of her age” and “Savior of Magical Creatures.” That same year, Hermione was named “Most Eligible Witch,” a title far worse than anything she had received before. Marriage contracts were sent by the dozens to Malfoy Manor, and to Hermione’s great relief, all were refused with little argument. The Malfoys drank in the positive attention following the release of the potion. Narcissa was asked to chair numerous charitable functions and to speak at several events, and Lucius was featured in Wizards Business Journal, where he was praised outlandishly. 

“Are you theorizing that we could break a mate bond with magic? That would be life changing. So many werewolf mates were lost during the war, leaving the remaining mate to drain their magic until they became a squib. A cure or healing for lost mates could save so many from losing their magic.”

“Clever girl. So I will expect you in the office on Monday. Draco can show you around and then you can report to the 5th floor to get your lab and office set up.”

Hearing Draco’s name was like a cold bucket of water being thrown over her head. She couldn’t work with him everyday. She didn’t want to see his stupid grey eyes looking at her or smell his obnoxious cologne. Besides, she had already committed to St Mungo’s and she wasn’t going to lose out on this chance of a little more freedom. 

“While I appreciate and respect the work you want to pursue, I need to keep my word with St. Mungo’s. I have already signed a contract and I start really soon.”

Before Lucius could say anything else, Hermione found herself in the loving arms of Narcissa Malfoy. “When did you get in, darling? We have missed you so much. I am so glad you are home. Run up to get changed, darling. We are going to have dinner a little earlier tonight than usual.”

Taking the opportunity to end all marriage and work discussions, Hermione quickly slipped from the room, with only a lingering kiss to Narcissa’s cheek. 

Narcissa looked to Lucius. “Well, did you talk to her?” 

“No, we raised a very stubborn witch.” 

“Well, perhaps at dinner we can bring it up with both of the children.” 

“I am sure that will go well.” Lucius drawled sarcastically. 

**Notes: Peach Flower Meaning: Apprehension, closing a deal, coming together**


	2. Seeing Him Again

June 2001 

“What is wrong with you?,” Blaise asked while leaning back in his office chair. Draco stretched out across Blaise’s office couch at the far end of the room, sighing dramatically every few minutes. 

“You don’t even want to know.” 

As the sole heir to the Malfoy family and soon to be CEO of Malfoy Enterprises, Draco felt like the world was on his shoulders. In the past 5 years, Draco had tripled the family’s wealth, making them the wealthiest family in Europe. While some of their income came from new potions or one of their many divisions - manufacturing, finance, medical, etc., most of their wealth had increased to sound investments in the magical and Muggle markets. Draco had developed his own philosophy on finances and didn’t think twice about using his wealth to take over a sound company or invest in the perfect stock only to undercut the sell off. Draco was a genius with numbers and money. 

“Well, if you don’t want to talk, you should get out of my office.” Blaise had always been like that. Fun, but in a dour, direct way. Following Draco to Malfoy Enterprises, Blaise had worked his way up the ranks to the head of Marketing and Communications in just a few years. His quick wit and brilliant strategy to turn even the most mundane items into something exciting appealed to the masses. To date, his greatest achievement was the Malfoy campaign on Spattergroit. He had somehow managed to romanticize the purple pustules and inability to talk into something of a fairytale. With the Malfoys’ new treatment on the market, no longer did it take standing under the full moon with a toad liver to heal the affliction. 

“She is back.”

“Who is back?”

“Everyone’s favorite swot. Mother sent me an owl this afternoon with the bad news. This means she will be at the Manor for the foreseeable future. Maybe I should look into getting my own flat? Merlin! What if I have to talk to her at dinner? She has this way of looking right through a man. Like he is a flobberworm on the bottom of a shoe or like you have the Black Cat Flu and you didn’t wash your hands.”

Blaise chuckled. “Perhaps Paris has done ‘The Savior of Magical Creatures’ some good?” 

“Not bloody likely. She just loses her temper so easily and comes within an inch of hexing your bollocks off, just to sit primly and smile. She is bloody terrifying on her best days.” 

“So she makes you feel inadequate?” 

“Don’t go there. You know perfectly well how adequate I am from having a bed next to mine in dorms for so many years.” 

“And I seem to remember a few times that your little swot was in the dorms with us. As if you thought you were being sneaky, leaving two pairs of slippers by your bed.” 

Draco had the wherewithal to not deny or confirm anything. “Well, I am sure she is still the prim little virgin Gryffindor who dressed up like a spinster.” 

“So what time should I be at dinner, so I can witness this little reunion?”

“In your dreams. I don’t need witnesses to the inevitable broom crash this is going to be.”

“OK, well, how is our little Tori doing? Any announcements or jewelry that has been exchanged?”

Appreciating the sudden change in topic, Draco launched into a recount of last Saturday, when he had dinner with the Greengrass family under the notion that perhaps someday a contract would be agreed upon by the family. Draco had been casually dating Astoria Greengrass for the past few months and didn’t have plans to rush anything. If he had it his way, marriage would be off the table until he was at least thirty. Prior to dating Astoria, Draco had gained quite the reputation for being a playboy in the Wizarding World, often caught in compromising positions in alleys or against the walls inside dimly lit clubs. Draco had prided himself on a very “work hard, play hard” attitude toward life, especially after the war. Things came to a screeching halt a few months ago when the Daily Prophet insinuated that Lucius may not have the ability to run his company if he couldn’t even control his own son. 

Lucius had all but threatened to disinherit Draco and burn him off the family tapestry if he didn’t agree to a more long-term approach to dating with the pursuit of marriage. Draco had quickly agreed and upon running into Astoria at a book signing, began to quietly date her. 

“No engagement talk now. I still have a few women I see discreetly on the continent for more explicit things. I am not ready to give up my freedom just yet. Speaking of freedom, any update on our dear friend and your sometimes fling, Theo?” 

“I am not sure what you are implying about my relationship with Theo.”

“Well, I don’t have to imply anything because the last time he came to visit, you forgot a silencing charm and I heard all about how you wanted to ‘fuck down his throat and watch the cum dribble down his - ” 

Wand out, Blaise sent a quick silencing charm Draco’s way. “OK, if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that up again, I will tell you.” With a slight nod from a still quiet Draco, Blaise grimaced and began speaking. “We are casual. We have an arrangement, but he doesn’t want more. He lets me use him whenever I want and pursues me out in public places for us to pursue our arrangement. He lets me do the most degrading things to him and then smiles at me in the most puppy dog way after. Its fucking unnerving. Then when I offer to buy him a drink or take him back to one of our flats, he panics and runs off. This is the most satisfying and frustrating not-relationship I have ever been in.” 

“Well…I guess you are fucked.” 

“Thank you for the brilliant advice, you tosser.”

“Perhaps if you want him to come home with you, you should just trick him into it. So you want more than just casual pubic sex?”

“I don’t know if I want a relationship, but I do know I want to have sex in a fucking bed.”

*tap tap tap* 

A regal owl tapped at the window, pulling Draco and Blaise from their discussion. “It's addressed to you, Draco. What is it?” A large yellow folder with the Gringotts logo lay emblazoned across the top. As he read through the files, he began to panic and pull at his hair. 

“It's a notice from my goblin advisor that a marriage vault had been created in my name. It doesn’t even list anyone else on the vault.” 

Blaise slowly chuckled. “Well...I guess you are fucked.” 

____________

He was late to dinner, which didn’t surprise Hermione in the least. At half past 6:00pm, even the house elves were starting to feel the rising tension in the room. 

“Lucius, go get Draco for dinner. I don’t care what he is doing or what is happening at the office. I will not wait for over 30 minutes at the dining room table.” Never one to question his wife’s authority, Lucius left swiftly through the floo. 

“Darling, while the men are gone, tell me...have you met any new wizards or witches?” 

“N-no I have not had the time to engage in any type of relationship, what with graduating early and all.” 

“A pity, my darling. A man has a way of satisfying urges that one can rarely find with a vibrating wand. I must say I am rather disappointed. The French wizards do have a reputation. I was hoping you might have been able to experience it.” 

Hermione took a large sip from her wine and didn’t respond. What could she even say to that? What was there to say? Hermione had dedicated 18 hours a day to studying and hospital apprenticeships for the past 3 years. She didn’t date or even find anyone appealing in that way. And then her worst nightmare happened. She felt him before she even saw him, the instant feeling of security and the rapid tempo of her heart. She remained stuck to her chair as she watched him trail through the door behind his father. His hair was a little longer, and the slight stubble across his jaw and lips gave him a devilish look. She felt the instant his eyes made contact with her, piercing through her very soul and deepening her pain and sparking something she had long forgotten inside of her. She threw up her Occlumency walls and schooled her features into something bland. She would not let him see her falter. 

Draco took his seat across the table from Hermione and the elves began the dinner service with a light and creamy pumpkin soup, something Draco knew was Hermione’s favorite. He listened in rapture and his own disgust as she made little muling noises over the first bite. Feeling her so close to him was agony. He felt her as soon as he moved into the room, taking in her big amber eyes, the color of his firewhiskey and gold. He longed to push his hands through her perfectly coiffed up-do, tearing out the pins to watch her long curls steam down her back. He remembered pressing himself close to her back and wrapping his arms around her waist night after night in the Slytherin dorms. He remembered the smell of her lavender soap and how minty her breath was all the time. Steeling himself, he pulled his eyes from hers and moved to his seat at the dining table. 

The first half of dinner went better than Hermione could have hoped. She dressed for dinner in a long emerald dress that accentuated her hips and showed just enough shoulder to make Draco uncomfortable. She was transported back to a memory of him kissing down her neck and growling into her ear about how indecent it was for her to be showing so much skin. She wanted him to see how well she was doing. How accomplished she was and how much better off she was with him out of her life. 

Hermione and Narcissa made plans to do some shopping in Paris later in the week for new Healer and Business robes. Narcissa shared all the latest societal gossip and regaled everyone at the table with her upcoming charity ball themes.

“How old are you, my darling Hermione?” 

It was an odd question, but still it did not occur to her not to answer. From the age of 10, Narcissa had always planned Hermione’s birthday. She already knew the answer to this question. “Twenty-two. I will be 23 in September.” 

“And tell me, are all of your female friends married?” Narcissa asked with an innocent tone to her voice. 

“Yes, my last single girlfriend was married last year. I believe you attended Luna and Neville’s wedding.” 

“You are opposed to us finding you a match. Do you not believe your friends to be happy in their marriages?” 

Hermione took in a shaky breath at the question.She purposely didn’t look across the table at Draco, but she could feel his eyes boring into her. How dare he have the audacity to listen to these questions and the gall of him to even look at her right now. She could feel her hair begin to spark with magic. A few more shaky breaths turned into a forced chuckle, and she slowly answered, “Not me, Narcissa. I am not the type. I am far too happy in my independence to be a good wife to someone. I have no interest in running a home. I want to dedicate myself to others. To the betterment of equality in the magical world.” 

A small scoff erupted from across the table, drawing everyone's attention at the table. Draco raised his pointy chin in defiance. “You have not changed one bit since school. You are still the bleeding heart Gryffindor that takes care of everyone else and lacks complete and total self-preservation. I mean, look at you. When was the last time you ate a decent meal?” 

She could feel her magic starting to spark again. “You lost the chance to say anything about me or my life in sixth year.” 

That effectively chilled Draco and he went back to moving his spoon around his pumpkin soup. Hermione didn’t miss the meaningful look Lucius and Narcissa gave one another at Hermione’s admission about sixth year. 

Narcissa redirected the conversation back to her. “Hermione, dear, what about children. How will you have children without a husband?” 

“Children?” There were probably dozens of ways to do that, Hermione thought, but she knew what Narcissa meant. It would be outlandish in the magical world to be a single mother, but when Hermione knew that when she was ready, she wouldn’t let a little thing like gossip hold her back from children when she wanted them. “I do not know. I have not factored children into my 5-year plan.” 

With that admission, the table fell quiet through the next few courses. It wasn’t until dessert came out that Lucius cleared his throat and looked up to Draco. 

“Hermione, I have a problem. One only you can help me with. One that will affect this family.” 

Lucius paused long enough to let Hermione know it was a delicate issue of great importance. It was long enough for Hermione to remember how Lucius and Narcissa had taken her in and given her a family. She remembered how Narcissa sat up with her when she cried from missing her parents or how Lucius would take her on exploration trips to the dragon reserves. She remembered sipping hot chocolate and decorating the Muggle way for Christmas. She remembered opening presents with Draco and going on broom rides across the countryside of Wiltshire. She owed this family so much for taking her in and giving her a family. 

“I would do anything for this family,” she told him tersely. 

“Brilliant. I was hoping you would say that. You see, I would like you to marry Draco.”


	3. Fire and Answers

June 2001

“M-marry D-Draco? That Draco?,” Hermione repeated, convinced she had heard him wrong. “You want me to marry…?” She pointed to a cold and impassive Draco. 

This wasn’t happening. She shakily got to her feet, feeling the room tilt to the side and begin to spin. Marriage! She wasn’t ever going to marry. She wasn’t the type and she for certain would not marry someone like Draco bleeding Malfoy.

“Are you very surprised, darling?” Narcissa’s voice seemed to lilt through the air as if to mock and soothe her. “You are well matched and both in your twenties. We know you would protect the family and take care of each other. This could be a beneficial match to the both of you.” 

Such old pureblood sentimentality about what one could benefit or gain from alliances as opposed to what the institution of marriage should really mean. She stood holding the back of her chair, trying desperately to hold onto something, anything, to keep her upright and ground her during this conversation. 

“I am just surprised. I never thought...wouldn’t you want your heir to marry someone he can have children with and someone who could help with the company and holdings? I don’t have any holdings nor any thoughts of children or marriage - ”

Lucius’ words cut through her rambling. “Then you will think about this now. You and Draco have much in common. Granted, you haven’t seen each other in a while. I am sure you both could grow to care for each other. As for the holdings, you have accumulated a significant dowry and some holdings by being our daughter. We would be honored for it just to be a more permanent title. Draco needs you. He needs a sensible witch to keep him on the right track. His life has been empty since the war.”

She looked on horrified at Lucius. Draco’s eyes bore into her, watching her expression of panic morph into barely contained loathing. And just as Lucius’ words came to a close, the drapes of the dining room began to smoke with fire and the crystal of the wine glasses began to crack. 

She could feel Draco’s burst of magic surrounding her, suffocating them and suffocating the air. As the flames began to dance up the walls, Hermione felt the room continue to spin and everything went black. 

As Lucius set to extinguishing the curtains with a flick of his wrist, Narcissa looked at her husband with a smile. “Well, it will be a passionate marriage to be sure.” 

“Mipsy!” *pop*

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Would you mind taking Hermione up to her quarters and preparing her for bed. I believe she is overly exhausted from her travels this afternoon.” 

“Mipsy lives to serve the future Mistress Malfoy.” Draco looked on in uncontained anger. 

With a snap of Mipsy’s fingers, Hermione was levitated from the room. 

“So you have already decided, haven’t you? I was notified this morning that a marriage vault was set up in my name.”

“Ah yes, goblins are very efficient and motivated creatures. All of your accounts as of this morning have been transferred into the marriage vault that you will share with your new wife upon marriage. Until you are married, you have been effectively cut off of the Malfoy fortune. I am doing what is best for this family and you will no longer tarnish the Malfoy name. Do you know how many French and Greek slags I have had to pay off just this month? ” 

“You can’t do this. It is my money that I have earned. Everything between me and those women was completely consensual. There is no story to tell or reason for blackmail!” Draco seethed. 

“You are lost, my son, and you need a good and honest woman to help you find your way back. This discussion is over. You can be disinherited or you can marry Hermione and take your place as CEO. Either way, our fortune will go to Hermione.” 

“A fortune I helped you build! A fortune that I have a blood right to! Not her! Have you been Imperiused? Why would you want Hermione as a daughter? She is a snob, she is far too bold for her own good and she...she...she…”

Without so much of a response, Lucius stood, offered a hand to Narcissa, and glided from the room. 

______________

Hermione woke from a fitful night's sleep to the sound of tapping at her window. A beautiful sage green envelope was held in the beak of one of the hospital's owls. Offering the owl a small bacon treat, Hermione swiftly split opened the dark green seal of the envelope. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she read the letter and let last night's conversation roll over her. 

Slipping into a soft black sweater and an argyle grey stitch skirt, Hermione dressed to face her family again at breakfast. 

Upon entering the dining room, she saw the whole family was already seated. Draco looked especially handsome in his tight Tornadoes t-shirt. His hair was swept back in a messy way. She greeted Lucius with a kiss to the cheek and Narcissa with a warm hug. 

After being seated, Nippy, the kitchen elf, popped into the room. Hermione noticed her lacy pink dress covered in bows.

“Nippy be seeing if the future Mistress Malfoy wants her normal breakfast or if her order has changed.”

“Just some fruit and espresso please, Nippy. Thank you so much for your help and that dress is lovely on you.”

“Nippy makes dress herself. Nippy looks best in pink.”

“Oh, it is lovely. You have quite a talent.” 

With a pop, a large bowl of strawberries and pineapples appeared in front of her, along with a rather large cup of espresso and cream. Not one to waste time, Hermione began her not-so-subtle trapping of a snake. “My rotational program has been delayed by six months. Lucius, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” 

Lucius slowly lowered his morning copy of the Daily Prophet and looked her in the eyes. “What makes you think I might know something about that, my darling girl?”

“Well, you are on the board for St. Mungo’s, are you not? It would be quite an oversight for you to not know if certain programs were being delayed, would it not?” 

“My dear, I do not bother myself with trivial details of start dates or delays in hiring. I am a busy man.” 

“Hmmph. Perhaps, but I believe you specifically oversee all governance for the Creature Maladies Ward.”

“My Dear, I am wounded. Let us not discuss this anymore. Perhaps with this additional time you could come to work at Malfoy Enterprises on the project we discussed yesterday.”

“What project?” Draco snapped. 

Hearing his voice was chilling. He spoke with such a bite, but she felt the hollowness in her heart. 

“The Mate Bond project needs a lead and I have offered Hermione a position leading our Medical Maladies Research Division.” 

“You offered the head of a division to someone with no experience in leading people? Father, have you lost your mind?” 

“Draco, do not speak to your father that way,” Narcissa chidded. 

“Yes, Draco, I offered Hermione, who helped lead a war, who graduated top of her class, a position with MY company.” Lucius’ cold eyes cut down on Draco, who said nothing more. 

“I don’t think I will work during this six-month hiatus. I think I will take some time for myself. I haven’t had a break in a bit and it might be nice to pick up a hobby or have a lie-in. I haven’t visited my friends in a while. Perhaps I will visit with my friends in Bulgaria.” 

Checkmate. With the mention of Bulgaria, everyone at the table grew quiet. Visions of Hermione dancing with Victor Krum assaulted his memory. He thought of how she laughed in his arms. Viktor had visited the summer before fifth year, taking Hermione on a few societal dates. He thought of how he had walked in on them inside the greenhouse the day before Viktor left. Her then curvy body had been perched on the edge of a tall bench with her legs open and Viktor’s fat head between her creamy thighs. Her wild hair was draped over her open shift, leaving hints of a lacy red bra barely containing a heaving chest. He thought of the soft moans she made combined with the lapping of Victor’s tongue against her sex. His eyes had met hers as she climaxed and as soon as she came down, he had turned and walked away. By Merlin, if she would be shacking up with Viktor Bloody Krum for six months while Draco had been disinherited. 

“Hermione, I am planning a benefit ball that I would love some help with. I am planning it for September, shortly after your birthday. Would you mind assisting me over the next few weeks in preparation? I want the theme to be Parisian elegance, so I think you might be able to offer me a bit of insight from your recent time in France.” 

Hermione nodded, and with that, she had plans with Narcissa all next week for guest lists and menu tastings. Breakfast ended in silence.   
____________

On her way to the floo, she was caught by a strong wrist. Draco’s grip was tight and sure. He spun her around and then dropped his hand as if he had been burnt. 

“Well, are we going to talk about the hippogriff in the room?” Draco deadpanned. 

“Malfoy, just so we are clear, I am not interested in getting married.” It was the first time she had addressed him directly and she felt the weight of her stare. The man sitting at the large table didn’t even have the countenance to show any emotion. Instead, he smiled politely, and rose to his feet in a nod. 

“Yes, well thank you for clearing that up. So I am Malfoy now?” 

“We haven’t spoken in years. I don’t think we have the familiarity between us any longer to go by first names.”

“Say my name, Hermione.” 

Draco moved toward her, stopping only a few inches from touching her. She hated that she had to look up to see him. She hated how full his lips looked, how sharp his jaw looked covered in a light stubble. There was a sensation of heat, which she pressed to ignore. He stood at least two inches over six feet now and in the few years of not seeing him, she noticed how good he had aged. His muscles were more prominent. He held himself as a self-assured, powerful man, no longer the thin teenager she remembered. Hermione felt a slight shiver run up her spine and a tug in her stomach. 

“It has been a long time, Hermione. You look good.” He watched a slight blush dance across her cheeks and saw a slip of tongue as she wet her lips. He longed to run his hands through her wild curls and press his mouth against those wet lips. Her body still called to him. 

“Yes, it has been a while. I wish I could say the same about you, but you still look like a pointy ferret to me.” 

Draco’s laugh was husky and rich, heating her body with the most delightful tingling. “Still a sassy minx I see.”

“Malfoy, you need to speak with your father. Tell him you are not interested in getting married to me. He won’t listen to me.”

“I have spoken to him and Mother. They do not listen to me either. And, my name is Draco.”

“No, that is not good enough. Simply tell him you refuse me. Tell him it's my blood status or you don’t find me attractive. Appeal to him. Tell him you want someone more powerful or wealthier. Just please…”

His eyes narrowed. “You know, I have never cared about your blood status or how much money you have.” He stepped a fraction closer to loom over her tiny frame. 

“Don’t get too close to me. You will give them ideas.”

“Oh, they already have ideas.”

“Well, don’t bloody encourage them.” 

Who was Hermione Granger? He remembered a curvy little swot, but before him was a slim wisp of a powerful witch. In an odd way, he felt her violence against him appealing. He had had his share of women who were only interested in his money, title, fame, etc. But this tiny little thing wanted him to keep his distance and was all but begging him to get her out of this arranged marriage. 

“You are staring at me. Don’t do that. Don’t look at me or speak to me. Just ignore me. Really, it is all right. You can just refocus Lucius on your relationship with Astoria.”

He obligingly turned his attention from her, only to be pulled back to her amber eyes. Why was she so afraid of marriage? More importantly, why wasn’t Draco panicking at the thought of marrying Hermione? And Astoria. He hadn’t even given her one thought since yesterday. Hermione wasn’t unattractive by any means. He remembered her half naked frame under him while they worked out all of their frustrations and pain. He remembered coming too quickly several times to the thought of her. 

“Listen, no contracts have been signed and I have not asked you to marry me. We are good for now.”

“No, Malfoy, you don’t understand. I cannot say no to Lucius and Narcissa. They have a way of always getting me to do what they want. They’ve done it before. Every summer break, I wanted to come work with you and Lucius at the firm, but Narcissa insisted on training me in managing Malfoy Manor. She made me attend every societal women’s function and memorize the Malfoy and Black histories back to the 11th century. Oh oh oh...oh no! They have been planning this for years!”

“Who has been planning what?”

“Malfoy, they want us to get married! All of my betrothal requests were denied and they have been essentially prepping me to be your wife!”

“Say my name.” 

She bit into her lip, trying to ignore the way his dark eyes seemed to reflect the light. “Why?”

“Because I like how it sounds. Now say my name.”

“Draco.” She clipped the word at the end, making the name sound more like a hex than a name. 

“No, love. Slowly. Draw it out.”

He was insane. She was insane. She wanted to smirk at his persistence and gall. He was strong and tall, looming just there. She could say it. She longed to obey and be able to let go. 

“Draco,” she repeated, meeting his warm stare as she drew out the last syllable. She waited. Only soft breaths between them.

“Hermione, what if I said I wouldn't mind marrying you?” He wanted to slowly test the waters. The sound of her melodic voice chanting his name charged him to want more. 

She spun to face him, wand in hand. “Are you insane? That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Draco, I am never, ever going to get married to you. Not in this life or the next. That is final.” 

“Want to bet?” A sly smirk crossed Draco’s face, and then he stepped closer. He slipped one arm around her waist and slid another up her back to rest at the nape of her neck. Her body instantly went rigid. 

“W-What are you doing?”

“Finding out if your mouth still tastes as good as I remember.” His gray eyes flashed with wanting. 

“Don’t even think about it. I am not interested in you in that way. I will only ask this one time, Malfoy. Let me go.”

“No.”


	4. Drinks with Friends

June 2001

She wanted to run. 

That is what she was good at...running. She had faced down Death Eaters, killed a few even, been vicious in the name of protecting her family and friends. But she couldn’t face him. She couldn’t let herself hurt like this again with Draco. He had too much power over her. 

She wanted to hex him. She wanted to feel numb to the way held her. His heat enveloped her, easing the chill in the air and making her careless and secure. She felt his magic brush against hers, coaxing it, feeling it, begging to be entwined with hers, and dancing across her skin in a seductive tangle of raw power. Holding her arms at her side, she forced herself to remain unmoving against the onslaught of sensation. 

“Relax into me, Love. Let your magic come out to play.” 

A shiver ran down her spine. She didn’t realize her hands had moved to his shoulders until she felt herself gripping onto him and snaking her fingers through the tips of his hair. They stood like that for a while, just soaking in the feel of each other. It was the feeling of being recharged or waking up after a long night's sleep. His hands slipped up and down her back in a soothing motion. His hand moved from neck to just above her bottom, where it lingered. He pulled her to him, pressing their bodies together.

“I am relaxed and my magic is fine where it is - safe from you.”

“Hermione, I don’t know what to say...I...I think everything happens for a reason.” 

She wouldn’t dignify a response to him. Again, she was letting him control her. Eventually he would hurt her. The hope of something ever being even civil between them could not make up how painful it was to walk away three years ago. They hurt each other and would always hurt each other. Twisting quickly in his arms and unsheathing her wand from her thigh, Hermione threw everything she could into her hex. 

And with that, large slimy bats began spewing from Draco’s nostrils. Draco immediately dropped his hands from her body and began grunting as large bats began to swirl and flap around. Hermione escaped through the floo. 

______________

Finding a booth in the Leaky Cauldron was just as difficult as it had always been. Finally spotting an empty booth she slid into the seat and waved her hand for a drink. “A butterbeer and a plate of chips, Tom.” 

“And a couple fire-whiskeys for us.” Harry was not one for change. He wore the same glasses he had back at Hogwarts, though now they looked as if he had cast one too many Reparos. He wore the same oversized jumpers and jeans, and his messy tuft of hair was permanently affixed in that unmanaged devil-may-care way. Ron’s style, on the other hand, had become much more stylish, and even (dare she think it) debonair. Ron’s hair had been slicked back at the top and cut short on the sides, no doubt something his fiancee had influenced. In Hermione’s seventh, or really, eighth year, during a trip to Hogsmeade to visit Ron and Harry, she had re-introduced Pansy Parkinson to the boys. Ron was instantly smitten with the bold and sassy raven-haired beauty and the rest was history.

“Where is Pansy?”

“Well, hello to you too, Hermione. We missed you so much,” Harry quipped. 

“Sorry, I was just hoping for a full reunion when you owled. I haven’t seen Pansy in over 6 months.” Pansy and Hermione had been in each other's lives ever since her final year at Hogwarts, when the sassy witch had walked up and deemed them “Best Friends.” Pansy had truly become her best girlfriend, being there for her when everything had fallen apart with Draco and visiting her for long weekends in Paris where they would go dancing and spend the evenings lazing about the Seine River with fancy bottles of wine. With insurmountable determination, Pansy had pushed Hermione through the pain and loss. Pansy had protected and pushed Hermione to want again, to feel again, even if it was a burning hatred. Hermione had harnessed her hatred and pushed herself in all things - to exercise more, to study harder, to be the best. 

“Oh, she is at home with Mum planning for the wedding. Merlin, I love that crazy witch, but I don’t think my mother and Pans are going to survive,” Ron laughed. 

Tom slipped the three drinks onto the table, and with a clink of their glasses, Hermione asked, “Are you ready to be a married man, Ron?” 

“Oh, more than ready. I have weekly dinners on Thursday with the Parkinsons and they want to make me head of the Parkinson family. You know Pans is the last of her line and the house magic won’t let a female be the ‘Head of House.’ I don’t see me doing all the running of properties and all the Wizengamot seat stuff. I plan on removing the gender requirement as soon as we are bonded. Pans will be brilliant at running everything; she knows I just want to take care of our future family.” 

“You are a good man, Ron. Have you talked about kids?”

“Yup - I want four little Pansy-flowers running about, but she wants three. We are in negotiation,” he shared with a smirk. 

Everyone laughed and Harry waved his hand for another round. “So, Harry, how about you? Dating anyone? How is the Ministry?” He peered at her with a soft smile, emerald eyes boring into her and taking her all in. 

“I have missed you, Hermione. It is good to have you home with us.” There was more in his words. More that she purposefully ignored; she couldn’t take anymore emotional upheaval right now. 

“I have missed you both too. I don’t want to leave ever again. France was what I needed at the time, but I love being here. So, how is the Mistry?,” she asked again.

“The Ministry is the same as it has always been. All hush hush, but we are closing in on the last Death Eater right now and the teams are putting in some pretty long hours.” 

“Who is it?”

“Fenrir Greyback. We found a few of his child wolf camps near Bristol after a Muggle school was attacked. We think he is using the Bristol Channel to move his camps into Wales.” 

Hermione went cold at the sound of his name and could feel the panic creeping up to overtake her. She remembered Greyback all too well. His lilting taunts and the week she spent captured like a caged animal. Breathing became too hard. Fear and aching stealed over her until she was encased in warm arms. His soothing hum and the way his hand stroked down her cheek brought her back. She looked up into blazing emerald eyes as he spoke with a hard gritty voice. “I am going to bring him in, Hermione. I am going to make sure he pays for everything - for you, for Remus, and for all of those damn kids. I will keep you safe.”

No one noticed the small flashes through the window of the pub. 

She just nodded and excused herself to the restroom to collect her emotions. Keep calm, keep calm, she chanted to herself in an even whisper. When she returned back to her seat, a fresh butterbeer sat on the table in front of her. 

“All right, boys, no more talk of Death Eaters. Let's only talk of happy things.”

“Hermione, tell us about your Healer program. Pans said you start next week?” 

“Oh, the program is going to be brilliant. I have been assigned to the Magical Creature Maladies floor and I will get to assist with accidental reversal research. My program has actually been delayed by six months, so I plan on helping Narcissa with a few charity events and I may do some traveling to visit friends.” 

“Only you could get so excited over research and diseases.” Ron laughed and shot his glass of firewhisky. 

Old stories were retold and many more drinks were consumed. Hermione had laughed until tears ran down her cheeks and a sense of complete joy overcame her. They didn’t leave until Tom kicked them out. Feeling too drunk to apparate, they all made their way back to Grimmauld Place. The ancestral home of the Black family had been left to Harry by his godfather. This Grimmauld Place was a much different home than she remembered from the war. Pansy’s influence over the space was evident by the modern touches of clean white walls and notes of silver and gray accents in tufted furniture and rich wall paintings. The large fireplace blazed with a flick of Harry’s wrist. Hermione sunk down into the gray couch covered in velvety soft throw pillows and warm blankets. 

“Kreacher!,” Harry shouted as they walked in the door, and the little elf appeared with a loud pop. “Can you bring us a bottle of that elf wine with the green label and three glasses?” 

“You will love this wine,” he continued, turning back to Ron and Hermione. “Luna brought me back a bottle from her travels in the Amazon. The elves there use magical tears to infuse the wine with sensations of elation.” 

“Well, that is bloody brilliant. I wonder if George would want to sell wine like this at the shop?” Now a reserve Auror, Ron was only called in to work at the Ministry under dire circumstances, and otherwise preferred to spend his time helping George expand his growing joke shop business and newly opened comedy club. 

Three glasses hovered into their outreached hands. 

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Hermione nodded to the house elf. 

“Yes, does future Mistress Malfoy need anything else?” At Kreacher's pronouncement, everyone in the room froze. 

“Er...n-no, Kreacher. Thank you.” 

“Hermione, are you going to explain what he meant by that?”

Uncontrollable giggles from the few sips of wine wracked through Hermione as she explained a clipped version of how Lucius wanted Hermione to marry Draco to keep him out of trouble. 

“Ugh, this is so like the Malfoys...always looking for someone else to clean up their messes.” While his words were of malice, a wide grin was spread across Harry’s face. 

“I don’t even want to talk about it. My feelings on marriage haven’t changed. I don’t want to be married. Besides, Malfoy is the last Wizard I would ever even think about marrying.”

After finishing off the bottle of elf wine and a half a bottle of firewhisky, the trio fell into fits of giggles as they watched old shows on the tele. 

Hermione woke to the floo going off in the living room, but could not move her body. Still feeling the effects of the wine, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. She had fallen asleep next to Harry on the couch, and his arms were wrapped snugly around her. A soft dark blue blanket had been covering them and Ron was nowhere in sight. Even in sleep, Harry’s face looked like it would split in two with his smile. 

She felt a pang run through her chest at the sight of his smile. Harry had been through so much in his life, and it seemed like everything always fell to him to fix. Even now, Harry was still protecting the Wizarding World. Seeing the smile across his face was healing in a way.

Sensing eyes on her, she looked to the fireplace and was met with sparking silver eyes.


	5. Revelations and Guilt

Chapter 5:

June 2001

Draco’s eyes had always been so expressive. Even after years of occlumency training, Hermione could still see every emotion in the subtle color changes and narrowing of his eyes. They sparked with silver when he was angry and became a dark, molten gray when he was touching her. 

“It is 2:00 in the morning, Hermione.” 

She could only manage a slight giggle in response. 

“Mother is concerned that you didn’t come home”. 

Again, her response was a mere giggle. 

“Our owls couldn’t even find you. I’m guessing this place is still unplottable.” 

Her giggling heightened. Careful not to wake Harry, Hermione wriggled out of his arms only to realize how truly short her outfit was. 

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Hermione felt immediate fear at the sound of Draco’s question. She looked down to see herself wearing an oversized Gryffindor Quidditch jersey and little else. She yanked on the hem, trying to pull it down to her knees. The movement only made her look guilty as she moved over to him. With the swift movement of a Seeker, he lifted the jersey up to her waist, revealing a pair of modest black knickers made of silk. He let out a pained breath of relief. 

Not able to respond back from bouts of gigging, Hermione didn’t respond. Something that made Draco even more irritated. Draco looked between Harry’s smiling face and Hermione’s uncontrollable laughter, seeming to make a connection. 

Making a quick decision, Draco picked up Hermione and lifted her over his shoulder. She could feel his warm hands splayed across the back of her thighs as he held her up. The caress made her gasp and go rigid in his arms. 

“Malfoy Manor,” he snapped as he moved them through the floo. 

Draco marched her through the atrium and down the hall to his mother’s tea room. Unceremoniously, he dropped on the couch and kept his eyes on Hermione as he spoke the words to his mother. “Hermione was drugged or hexed. She won’t stop giggling and I found her without any clothes.” 

Pulling down the hem of the jersey, she worked to cover her thighs. Containing herself wasn’t possible. Every time she tried to explain about her clothes and the wine, more laughter came out. She was starting to feel breathless from all of her whooping. 

“Finite,” Narcissa brandished her wand at Hermione. With a series of diagnostic spells, Narcissa reviewed the information that floated above Hermione. 

As Narcissa worked, Hermione felt the eyes of the men in the room bearing down on her. The more uncomfortable she felt, the more her laughter became something closer to howls and screams. Chancing a look to Lucius, Hermione felt an immediate sense of regret. He looked upon her with the eyes of a disapproving father. She felt the disappointment flow over her. While Lucius looked like a concerned and disappointed father, Draco looked like a possessive and wild animal. 

“Draco, tell me you didn’t touch the Potter boy. If this diagnosis comes back that he hurt her, I want to be the one to watch the blood drain from his face.” Lucius Malfoy in these moments was formidable and frightening. 

“No, Father. I felt we needed to see to Hermione’s health first. I found her sleeping with him when I walked into the living room.” At that pronouncement the room seemed to erupt sparking with magic.

“N-no. No. S-sleeping, not s-sex,” Hermione was barely able to clarify between now painful shrieks of laughter.

“Well, it doesn’t look like a curse or charm. Her toxicology report shows high levels of alcohol and something I can’t discern. Draco, please bring Hermione a sober-up potion.” 

Draco returned a few moments later and Hermione swallowed the potion in two quick drinks. After a few moments, she was able to breathe again, and the euphoric sensation of wine was only a memory. 

“We drank Rainforest Tears Elf Wine. It is brewed to induce laughter and we perhaps had a bit too much,” Hermione quickly explained. 

“And why are you wearing Potter’s jersey?” Draco seethed through clenched teeth. 

“I spilled wine on myself when Pansy came over and Harry gave me this to change into. I fell asleep on the couch, but nothing unseemly happened.”

“Alright. We will talk to Pansy in the morning to confirm everything. For now, I think everyone should get some sleep.” Narcissa’s tone was commanding and final.

“Draco, you will see that Hermione gets to her quarters,” Lucius commanded. 

With a nod from Draco, he followed Hermione from the room. 

Bare feet padding across the marble floor, Hermione moved in silence up the staircase. Malfoy manor has 142 staircases. When Hermione was younger, she would spend hours getting lost in the manor, climbing every staircase and visiting every room. She wanted to explore and adventure through her home in the same way that she yearned to adventure through life. 

Draco’s eyes followed her as her hips swayed beneath the jersey. “Potter” written across the back of her jersey taunted him, which only seemed to raise his ire. Draco could refuse his father’s wishes. He had defied him enough in the past, especially after the war. As long as Hermione didn’t want him, then he could still get out of this marriage. His mind began to race with a list of items he needed to fix. This would not do.

All too soon, they were at the door to Hermione’s quarters. Without even an acknowledgement, Hermione pushed her way through the french doors. “What are you -”

“Get on the bed, Hermione.”

“No” 

“Yes, if you know what is good for you, you will not push me right now.” 

Hermione stepped through her small sitting room and into her bedroom, sitting barely on the edge of the bed. It was a small bit of defiance that would not go unnoticed. The room was exactly the same as it had always been. Luxurious, intimate, and serene, it was her respite away from it all. Large cascading sheer curtains covered the windows, letting in swaths of moonlight. She was pulled from her thoughts when she felt her clothing slip from her body. With just a flick of his wrist, Draco had vanished her clothing. Draco's eyes dragged across her body, cataloging scars he hadn’t seen in a long time. His eyes landed on her inner forearm and winced. Summoning a silk bathrobe, Draco threw the material toward her. “You should be dressed for this conversation.” Once she had finished slipping on the robe, she raised her eyes again to meet an intense stare. 

“Did anything happen between you and Potter?”

Blinking a few times, Hermione felt some of the fog dissipate and make way for some rage.   
“Not that it is any of your business, but I can see you won’t leave until you get an answer. No, Malfoy, nothing happened.You know Harry is like a brother to me.” She sniffed to punctuate her displeasure at the question. 

She watched as Draco seemed to visibly relax with her answer. A small smirk returned to his beautiful face. “Back to Malfoy, is it?” 

“You will always be just Malfoy to me.” Venom seemed to seep from her words. 

“We should discuss the betrothal. You have always been one for logic, so you know I don’t think Lucius and Narcissa are going to let this go. I think we can come to some common ground, each of us getting what we want.”

Hermione seemed to sit up a little, preparing herself for negotiations. “Absolutely. Do you have a solution for neither of us wanting to get married?” ‘

She was not going to make this conversation easy for him. “Let's say you were to get married. What would you want from a marriage?”

“I suppose I would want a friend. Someone who could be supportive of my ambitions.” 

“A friend is good. What else?,” he prodded. 

“I would like a few children, but I think I would like to wait until I am a little bit further in my career.” 

“Yes, that is understandable. Go on.”

“I want to work outside of the home. I know the wizarding world doesn’t always look favorably on witches who want to work. I love what I do and I’m only getting started.”

“Good. Anything else?,” he coaxed. 

“Well, one last thing.” She bit her lip, thinking of the best way to articulate this particular need. “This will be something of a foreign concept to you, but I would like loyalty in my marriage. I understand it is common for some pureblood marriages to have additional partners, but I need fidelity.” 

“Okay.”

“Don’t say “okay” like you understand. You have a reputation, Draco. This is why you would be the last person I would marry. You would make a fool of me.”

“And will you be able to satisfy your husband? All of your husband's passions?”

A blush overcame her. “I-I can. There are books and I take instruction well. Passions aren’t a priority in a marriage. There is little appeal to me.”

She watched as his eyes slightly glazed over and his words came out with a bite. “I am sure your husband would not want to trouble you more than necessary. If you want children, you will have to endure.” 

Hermione gave a slow nod of acknowledgment. “Draco, what would you want in a wife?”

“I don’t know what I want, but I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”

__________

Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair. Narcissa had not been able to sleep one wink for thoughts of how lost both of her children were. After seeing her bright and strong girl in a stitch state last night, she felt a stronger conviction to push her children towards each other. 

The entire family looked exhausted and magic seemed to permeate and swirl around the room as they ate. Narcissa broke the silence with a pronounced and clipped tone. “I have known you since you were a little girl. I remember how proud we were to welcome you into our family, how thankful I was to have you, after what happened with our own little girl.” At her words, Lucius reached across the table to clasp his wife's hand in his and raise her fingers to his lips. Hermione had watched the reverence and love that Narcissa and Lucius shared in rapture. She dreamed of one day having that, of having someone she could trust and share her pain and happiness with. 

Narcissa continued on. “When you first came into our lives, you were so small. You were so bright and pretty, not afraid of anything. I remember pulling you from the banisters when you would try to slide down them and the first time you laid your head in my lap demanding I read you something. I knew you were my daughter then. I have hoped since then that one day you would be my bonded daughter. You have grown into a beautiful and compassionate woman. We are proud of you and thankful for you coming into our lives.”

Draco hadn’t said anything during this speech, but she could feel his magic reaching out to soothe her. 

Small tears ran down Hermione’s face and she swallowed. The motion could not displace the guilt caught in her throat. “Don’t do this to me,” she moaned. “You and Lucius have been everything to me. My parents were killed when I was so young, I barely have memories of them. You have raised, guided, and loved me. I would do anything to repay you and your kindness, but please don’t ask me to marry Draco. I don’t want to marry anyone. I just want to work and live quietly. Marrying would break me.” Her unspoken words were palpable. It wasn’t that marrying would break her, but specifically that marrying Draco would break her.

“Hermione, raise your eyes and look at me.” She met Narcissa’s shiny blue eyes. Gripped like a lion being slowly lured into a trap with no escape, she shifted in her seat. 

“You are the kind of woman who needs to be married,” Narcissa softly spoke. “Not because you need to be controlled, but because you deserve to find happiness and to have a family of your own. You have worked your entire life to belong. Belong because of who you are, belong in a new family, and belong in a war that you shouldn’t have had to fight in. You have always wanted a home, a permanent home that cannot be taken away from you. Don’t you see that Lucius and I want to give you a permanent home and a future full of family? I want this manor, our home, to be filled with babies. I want to hold your children in my arms before I leave this world.” 

Hermione was drowning. She could feel herself sinking under the weight and promise in Narcissa’s words. It was just like a Slytherin to see her deepest insecurities and hopes, and then manipulate her with them. Hermione couldn’t even feel angry about it, as she could hear the sincerity in Narcissa’s words. Isn’t this what she truly always wanted? To have something tying her to the family in an unbreakable way? 

“I don’t want to get married,” Hermione said weakly, making a last ditch attempt to hold her own against the formidable woman. While many people feared Lucius, Narcissa was truly the one to fear. Narcissa could convince anyone of anything, all while sipping tea and never getting her hands dirty. She was a powerful witch in every respect. 

“My dear, aren’t you sick of fighting? You have always fought, but now we want you to have someone to share your fight with, a partner to share in your burdens and to bring you happiness.” Narcissa’s words stung her. 

“But Draco could never be a partner to me. We can barely be in the same room with each other.” Hermione looked to Draco for help, urging him with her eyes to help her in this argument. 

“What is to say that you two won’t fall in love? The Malfoy men have always been very attentive and caring towards their wives.” Oh Morgana! That was the last thing she wanted Narcissa to say. Hermione felt her cheeks redden and she looked away. 

Draco smiled placatingly at his mother. “Mother. Father. I will consider your wishes. I understand it is my duty to marry and produce heirs. Perhaps what we should do is reconsider your choice of my bride.”

“You dare defy me on this?,” Lucius asked.

Draco had honed his skills of diplomacy over many interactions in the boardroom. He had observed and noted the most effective arguments and ways of persuasion. “While Hermione has some admirable qualities, I do not want her to be trapped in a marriage that she does not want. There are plenty of witches out there that are eager to marry me.” 

While his words were true, Draco knew the type of women those witches were. The witches who saw him only for his money or title. He didn’t want a shallow witch. 

“I believe Hermione is the right choice for you. She is the one. The wedding will take place in September. If you don’t show up, then I will sign every last galleon over to Hermione upon my death.” Lucius was undeterred.

A gasp fell across the room and Draco’s eyes cut to her. 

“Lucius, I-I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you, besides keeping you as my family,” Hermione said.

“My dear, that is exactly why you are perfect for this family. My decision is final. I suggest you two reacquaint yourselves with each other.” With that final pronouncement, Lucius collected his smiling wife and strolled from the room. 

“Can’t we just have one calm meal in this house?” Hermione’s humor was lost on a looming Draco.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone- 
> 
> Thank you for reading! It means so much to me already. I will be updating this story pretty erratically, so please hit that follow button.
> 
> Cheers!


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